


The Truth of You

by Devildream69



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Basically PWP, F/M, Maria Doyle Kennedy could throw me in front of a bus and I'd say thank you, Murcasta, i needed this so much, mostly porn but with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devildream69/pseuds/Devildream69
Summary: When two people who've learnt the hard way what life could do to a person, find each other again- the inevitable happens. The truth of them becomes the only thing that matters.
Relationships: Murtagh Fraser/Jocasta MacKenzie Cameron Innes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	The Truth of You

  
  
  
When she’d first held his hands in hers again after so long, her heart stuttered in her chest. In an instant she was fifteen again, watching Murtagh Fitzgibons stare longingly after her sister when he thought no one was looking, from across the hall. 

She remembered her younger self being dismissive of a man like him then. No fortune, nor any means to earn one, save his sword. 

A heart in hand was all well and good but it would simply not do for Jocasta MacKenzie. 

No, by God, she would have her silks and fine carriages. 

She’d gotten them and more. Paid for in the blood of her youngest girl on that desolate moor. 

And now, more than four decades later, wearing the finest silk dress coin could buy, in a house that was her gilded cage, she’d met this man again. 

Though she couldn’t see him looking at her, nor be certain he looked at her as he had Ellen, she could hear it in his voice. The truth of him. 

She thought she knew all there was to know about herself after more than fifty years on God’s green earth, but somehow life still surprised her. 

When he kissed her, the fire of whiskey in both their veins, she felt herself burning for the first time since coming to the New World. So long. It had been so very long since a man-- a good man, had hungered for her like this. 

Oh make no mistake, she knew who he was when she let him undo the stays of her petticoat. She knew who he was when he slid down her drawers and pulled aside her chemise to kiss the soft skin below her belly button. She knew him to the bones, and it still didn’t stop her stubborn heart from whispering to her, that he was hers. 

“Jo.” he whispered into the crook of her neck and shoulder, kissing a line there. “My Jo.” 

No one had called her that since before her first marriage. She pressed kisses along his shoulder, her hand clinging to the nape of his neck fervently. 

His mouth found one nipple, and his nimble blacksmith’s fingers, the other. If losing her sight had any advantages, it was this-- this clarity of sensation. Her back arched off the bed, her toes curled and she whimpered. 

One hand released her breast, in favour of searching out her soft mound of curls. His fingers were thick and strong, and when they met her wetness and she felt him groan against her breast, she gasped and pressed herself into his hand more. 

“God help me Jo but you’ve made a pretty mess of yourself down here.” He rumbled with that rakish voice of his. She laughed at that and smacked his shoulder gently. “Will we be here all day or will you do something about it?” She asked, biting her lip and touching his wrist where his hand was on her for good measure. 

“Och aye, I’ll do something about it.” He growled, shuffling himself down lower. 

“Good.” she said, her voice brimming with laughter. “I was beginning to think the whiskey had affected you a bit too much.”

“Are you saying I cannae hold my liquor woman?” He barked through a laugh. 

“Oh, I’d surely never say such a thing-- but if only I were in bed with a man who could prove me wrong.” She retorted,letting her fingers rake through his long hair.

She wondered briefly if he’d gone as grey as she had, or was it still tinged with the dark brown it had been in days long passed. His wiry beard scratched the insides of her thighs but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. 

“Can a drunk do this for you then?” He asked before pressing his mouth to her, sweeping his tongue between her lips. She whimpered and her eyes rolled into her head in bliss, as he spread her thighs wider apart and began his task again. 

It occurred to her then, that a blacksmith could hit a single point of metal with a hammer over a hundred times to forge a horseshoe, with single minded determination. As Murtagh worked his tongue against the pearl of nerves between her thighs, she realised how that might translate to a bed. 

His broad fingers found her entrance and he lifted his head long enough to whisper, “Let me.”

“Yes.” She moaned as his fingers eased into the deepest part of her. 

His mouth returned to her and he worked his fingers in time, stroking that place inside her that had her panting and her fingers scrabbling at his shoulders. 

When his mouth began to suck at her clit insistently she felt the pressure build in time with his fingers, and he sped up, sensing her time was near. 

He paused long enough to rasp, “That’s my girl. Give it all to me.” Before redoubling his efforts. 

_“Oh, oh God._ ” She moaned as the familiar clenching made stars burst behind her eyelids. His fingers filled her so perfectly, and his mouth knew it’s task so very well. 

“Hmm. Oh. My goodness.” She sighed as her trembling slowed and her breathing returned to normal. She felt him kissing her inner thighs and rumble, “Am I still a useless drunkard then?”

“Well I’m sure I can’t say. Once is all well and fine but a man of your years-- “ she was interrupted by his mouth covering hers and his hands gripping her wrists, pressing her down into the bedding. 

“You’ve grown more demanding Jo, since we last met. It suits you.” He whispered, before taking her mouth again. 

“I should say so.” She sighed contentedly, as he trailed kisses along the column of her neck and his arms wrapped around her waist to hold her closer. “I’ve spent a great deal of time learning how to get what I want from life.”

He paused in his ministrations. He ran his fingertips along the edge of her face. “If I could have spared you even an hour of that learning, I would have.” 

“Och, dinnae fash-- we cannae change the past as well you know Murtagh Fitzgibbons. No, I’m quite content as things are. Why, I even have a handsome scotsman in my bed again.” She said, trying to lighten the mood again. 

“Jo.” He sighed against her hairline. “My clever, beautiful Jo.” 

“Kiss me. Please.” She whispered, trying hard not to let the past wander into the darkened rooms of her mind. He cupped her jaw and took her mouth gently at first, then with building hunger.   
  


For once, she wouldn’t have to worry about the fire dying down as she slept. She knew she’d be kept warm, even if it was just for this night.

Jocasta had learnt to take the good life had to offer, whenever she could. No matter what would come tomorrow, she had tonight, with a man who saw the truth of her.   
  



End file.
